In Unity, They Stand
by UnovianWeavile
Summary: Commander Frost is entrusted with the task to unite nations to quash a potential threat that could overthrow the monarchy and purge the questionable laws and ethics of the royal leaders. But which side is fighting justly? The suspicious militia? Or does the monarchy have underlying malevolence behind their glossy exterior? [Contains mild violence and infrequent yaoi]


Multiple rapid knocks echoed throughout the commander's quarters, "Commander Frost! I have an urgent request at hand!". A shaky, nervous voice came from the knocking. A male Weavile - known to the Lord's Guardsmen as Commander Frost - lifted his head from the silken pillows in his bed chamber, his eyelids opening to reveal two piercing red eyes that gleamed with a mixture of irritation and morning contempt, "Enter". The reply was cold and demanding. The door to his chamber slowly opened, as a black muzzle poked in, two beady red eyes following along with a pair of black ears, with a yellow band breaking the middle of them, "S-Sorry to wake you, Commander, b-but Lord Xavier told me t-t-to make sure y-you got the message as quickly as possible". Frost grunted dismissively and sat up, the silk blankets crumpling around his waist, "I told you to enter, not mutter into my chambers". The Umbreon shamefully crept into his quarters, opening his mouth to repeat the sentence, "The door", the Umbreon squeaked and kicked the door shut, causing a slight slam. Frost seethed air through his teeth in frustration, "You're trying my patience". The Umbreon's ears lowered in panic, constantly he was tripping over himself socially, "D-Deepest apologies, s-sir! D-Did you get my message?". Frost nodded and turned his body so his legs were hanging over the side of the bed, the sharp, icicle-like toes clacking against the floor, "How long ago was this message issued?", Frost asked without regarding the Umbreon as he opened his bedside drawers, his specially-crafted armor thumping against the woodwork as the drawers slid open, "U-Um, about ten minutes ago, Commander. Lord Xavier stressed how urgent the message was, s-so I ran here". Frost withdrew his armor from the drawers. First was a special tunic, the external material made of a malleable steel, allowing agile movement while providing vital protection from relatively-heavy weaponry. Inside - behind the layer of steel - was a soft fabric lined with anti-insulating cotton to make sure that the wearer was comfortable, while also keeping their body temperature low by repelling warm or hot air, as Weavile and other Ice-Types would need a frigid environment to work at maximum efficiency, as to become hot in the heat of battle would result in exhaustion, which would then lead to death by the foe's hand. Frost pulled on the tunic, adjusting the armor so that the waistline covered his waist, and the T-like arms were running halfway down to his elbows, "You ran from the Lord's Keep to the Military Residence Quarters in five minutes?", Frost looked to the Umbreon with a blank glance; the Umbreon nodded, "A-Approximately... s-sir". Frost looked back to the second drawer, opening it to retrieve his armored leggings, "It appears your outward klutz leads one to underestimate you". The Umbreon blinked once or twice, did Commander Frost just compliment him? "U-Uh, th-thank you, sir. H-Happy to help!", he gave an awkward, but sure salute, his side-hung messenger satchel bouncing. Frost pulled on the leggings. The leggings were made to the same design and effect as the tunic, providing protection, free movement and temperature control, but with small pockets on either side. Frost stood and shut the drawers, "Tell Lord Xavier that I will be there momentarily". The Umbreon nodded with an affirmative grunt, before running from the room to carry out his duty.

Frost walked down the long strip of stone and paving that split the Lord's Trophy Garden, a lush expanse of green, dotted with ornaments of heroic stature, such as miniature monuments to history or playful yard decorations, such as Magikarp and Feebas in humorous positions. Children of the Guardsmen or children from the villagers that resided in the Common Resident District would usually come to the Trophy Garden to play and frolic together. Near a statue of a roaring Haxorus were three children playing and laughing, an Eevee kit, a Kirlia and an Espurr. Frost glanced in their direction, catching the Espurr's eye, who gasped in excitement and started waving frantically, alerting it's other two playmates, who also began waving. Frost looked over to them, waving back a little. The Espurr and it's playmates ran over to Frost in an excited ample, "Maxie! It's Commander Frost!", the Espurr ran up to Frost's knees, looking up to him with a gleam of admiration in his eyes, "H-Hi, Commander Frost! My name is Max! I'm your biggest fan!". Frost looked down at the kitten, tilting his head slightly, "Oh?". Max smiled brightly, "Yeah! And these are my friends! Angel (he pointed to the Eevee) and Krista (he gestured to the Kirlia). We all love your stories! My mama reads them to me from the newspaper! Is it true you took down a Hi-Dry-Gon and a Dragonite both at the same time!?". All three children looked up at him with inspired stares, "Well, little ones, that is true. But that battle came with the cost of the lives of two who were fighting for their own causes, so I tend not to take glory for dampening the efforts of their plight". The children's inspired gazes dropped to blank stares. Angel spoke up, "Huh? My daddy said they were bad guys, right?". Frost clenched his claws a little, not to intimidate, but to mimic impatience so the children would not press further, "Not directly, child. As I said, they were fighting for what they thought was right. As I was fighting for what I was ordered by our Lord". Krista piped up, "But Lord Xavier is always right! My daddy told me so!". Frost didn't reply for a few moments, the silence instilling into the children. Unable to speak safely, Frost continued his travel without a word. Only the Espurr yelled a happy "Bye, Commander!" as Frost left.

Frost had finally entered the atrium before the Lord's Throne Room, two menacing Bisharp standing on each side of the door frame. Frost nodded to them and pressed a claw to the door, but stopped when both Bisharp crossed each other's arms in front of him, "The Lord is busy interrogating a suspected militia member. Wait here until the interrogation is over". Frost backed away and sat on the bench opposite the door, "Tch. Metalheads". Frost sat on the bench, waiting with an impatience in his body, his foot tapping on the floor rapidly. As if from nowhere, a Gallade came through the atrium entrance, a white scarf around his neck. He did the same as Frost and attempted to enter the Throne room, receiving the same sharp command as Frost did, "Sheesh, keep your pointy bits on". The Gallade went and sat beside Frost, "How's it going?". Frost ignored him; he didn't have time to talk to loudmouth idiots. The Gallade nudged Frost, "Hellooooo?", Frost hissed at contact, "Don't touch me(!)". The Gallade held his hands up, "Easy there, short-fuse, just making- Hold on... You're Commander Frost!", Frost nodded, looking away from the Gallade, "Yes, that is I". The Gallade laughed victoriously, "Oh, man! I've always wanted to meet you in person! And to make it even better, I'm working alongside you!", Frost blinked in confusion, "Working beside me? I'm sorry, but I only work alongside refined and trusted fighters". The Gallade scoffed, "And I am. Best swordsmen in the kingdom of Psydoni-AACK!", at the mention of Psydonia, Frost snarled and turned on the Gallade, shoving into his neck with his arm and pressing a claw now dripping with black, malevolent energy to his cheek, the blade tips poking the flesh, "Never try to associate with me if you were born from such a pretentious monarchy!". The Gallade was pressed against the back of the seat, struggling to speak from the arm on his windpipe, "Jeez, Frost! Don't be so cold!", the Gallade gave an unintimidated smirk and laughed right in Frost's face, enraging him to the point were Frost threw him over his head onto the floor before raising his claw to slash at him, when he saw the Lord's messenger Umbreon stood in the doorway leading to the Throne Room. Frost glared at him, "What?". The Umbreon cowered a little, "U-Uh, the Lord c-can see you now". Frost looked down to the still giggling Gallade, snarling a little, "This isn't over". Frost turned away and stomped into the Throne Room.


End file.
